


Kinktober: Sensory Deprivation

by moonmoth (greyvvardenfell)



Series: Kinktober 2019 [8]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Coming In Pants, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23584579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/moonmoth
Summary: Julian has very sensitive nipples...
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Original Character(s)
Series: Kinktober 2019 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697680
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Kinktober: Sensory Deprivation

“Is that comfortable, lovely?”

“It’s just a little off. There’s a tiny sliver of light coming in from the bottom.”

I smile and adjust the blindfold, tugging the edge of the satin down until he purrs happily.

“There, yes. Can’t see a thing.” Julian tilts his face up, his flirtatious eyebrow emerging from behind the fabric like the wing of a bird poised to take flight. “Do with me as you will, my dear. I’m absolutely dying to find out what you’ve got cooked up.”

He’s playful tonight. I’ll see that well rewarded. “Dying, huh? Haven’t you been there, done that?”

“This time I’ll bring back a souvenir.”

I rest my hand on the top of his head and begin to walk around him in a slow circle, gently rolling his neck as I go. He relaxes into my touch immediately, a puppet with its strings cut, and lets out his breath in a huff through his nostrils.

“I really don’t think you’ll want to miss out on this, Jujubee. It should be fun.”

He groans low in his throat as his vertebrae align, releasing tension in a quick series of pops. “I may die of curiosity, darling, but I live for fun.”

“Don’t I know it.” When I’m behind him again, I pause and lean over to whisper into his ear. “How do you feel?”

“Mmm, wonderful.”

“Good.”

And I step away, silencing myself with an unspoken spell so it seems to Julian’s covered eyes like I’ve vanished completely. His wrists are bound behind his back and though he’s acting quite cocksure, I told him not to move from the stool he’s sitting on and I know he won’t disobey a direct order. He may deserve to be acknowledged for his playfulness, but not yet.

“Rey?”

Even with the insurance my spell provides, I hold my breath.

“Reyja? Darling?”

He looks around despite the blindfold.

“Was it something I said, love? Please, I… Please come back. Where are you, dearest?”

I let him talk to himself for what must feel like an age, alone in the quiet. Still muffled by my magic, I cross the room to our toy box and grab the paintbrush I laid on top of it earlier today. If Julian noticed it when he came in, he didn’t say anything.

He’s still babbling, increasingly concerned, when I make my way back to him and kneel at his side, setting the brush on the floor before shedding my glamour with a wave of my hand.

“You miss me, Juley?”

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of my sultry murmur. “My god, darling! Where did— how did you do that?!”

“I’m a magician, remember? Just because I work with you now doesn’t mean I’ve completely left behind what I used to do.”

His body leans towards mine as much as his precarious perch on the stool will allow. I can almost hear his pounding heart. “Right. Of course. How foolish of me, to forget that my partner is the most talented caster of spells and weaver of incantations I've ever met.”

Oh, he’s hoping for a treat, praising me like that. Lucky for him I’m feeling generous.

“I have a soft spot for fools,” I say, standing up only to throw my leg over his and plunk myself into his lap.

If his hands weren’t tied, they would be buried in the flesh of my hips, roaming my back, cradling my chin as he kissed me. Even now I can hear the ropes creak as he strains against the knots. But they hold. My rigging may not be the most creative, or the most beautiful, but it’s always solid.

I take the opportunity to feel him up, planting my palms on his collarbones and smoothing down the muscles of his arms. Goosebumps prickle under my fingers before I reach his elbows, made all the more obvious by the russet hair on his forearms. I could play with him for hours, but I’ll spare him that tonight. Instead I return to his chest and drag my hands along the lines of his pecs and abdominals, purposefully avoiding his nipples. I hope he thinks I’m focusing on his body hair, an assumption I do nothing to discourage by cooing over the thickness and beauty of it.

“It just suits you so well, lovely."

He’s blushing and stuttering already, and we’re not even to the fun I promised him yet. “Th-thank you. I, ah, I tried waxing my legs once. With Asra and Nadia, up at the palace. I think everyone in Vesuvia must’ve heard me scream.”

“My poor Juley.” I kiss his forehead. “I’m glad it grew back.”

“Mm. It did eventually, yes. Me too.”

I let him enjoy the feeling of my hands for a bit before I dive into my true plan. “Lay your head back for me. I can’t resist you anymore.”

He lets out a beautiful little groan as he stretches his neck out, not back but to the side, well aware of what’s on the horizon. Since that afternoon backstage at the old theater when we first met, hardly a week can pass without one of us marking up the other. We both take bruises and bitemarks so well, it’s almost addicting to watch pale skin turn pink, then red, then purple, a rainbow of passionate reminders of our love branded into each other for the world to see.

And few things get Julian harder more quickly.

After I’m satisfied with both the marks I’ve left on his throat and the bulge tenting out the front of his pants, I retreat again, stooping to pick up the paintbrush I grabbed earlier. This time, though, I don’t disappear.

“How’re you doing, ‘Bee?”

“Delightfully, love. Having an absolutely marvelous time. I do wish I could see you, though, as fun as this is. Nothing beats the sight of your gorgeous face.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” He’s sweet, but I won’t be moved again. “No more flattery. This is the last thing I have planned for you anyway, so you’ll get your wish soon regardless.”

Julian perks up, intrigued. “Oho? A grand finale?”

“You could say that.” I summon a sphere of cool water to float in front of me and dip the end of the brush into it, soaking the tapered bristles to make sure they’re clean before drying up the excess with another spell and banishing the orb. “Now open up.”

He licks his lips and grins in my direction. “Oh, my love, you spoil me. You really do.” Then he obediently drops his jaw, even sticking his tongue out in anticipation of whatever I might be offering him.

I swirl the end of the brush around the very tip of his tongue first. He must not recognize what it is, but he doesn’t flinch. He lets me trace his lips with the bristles, too, trembling when I linger around the sharp angles of his cupid’s bow. Only when I finally place the paintbrush on the flat of his tongue and order him to wet it completely does he connect the dots and identify both what I’ve been teasing him with and where it’s going next.

Julian’s nipples are extraordinarily sensitive, much more so than mine. The little pink nubs stiffen up at the slightest breeze, the most innocent touch, the barest hint of innuendo or suggestive phrase. He can cum just from pinching and rubbing them, sometimes very suddenly, and it’s this quick trigger I plan on exploiting tonight. I love the way he looks when he cums, so primal yet so vulnerable, raw from the loss and pleasure-rush of it all.

“Oh!” He keens almost the instant he feels the damp brush tip circling his areola. “Oh, fuck! Oh, oh darling, oh, that’s _good_!” I continue the same motion until his words scatter into nonsense, then start to tickle the pebbled peak with the bristles. The stool scoots across the floor inch by inch with the tiny thrusts of his hips as he searches for friction.

For a moment, I’m tempted to be cruel. Part of me wants to vanish into the ether again and leave him here, tied up, aching, begging for me until he’s a sobbing wreck. But he’s been so good for me, like he always is, and I could never do that to my Julian. At least not until we’ve thoroughly discussed it beforehand first.

So instead, I switch my attention and the paintbrush’s smooth caress to his other nipple and he shatters, untouched. His cock twitches visibly behind the dark navy fabric of his pants, a patch of white oozing through to the surface. I almost throw the brush across the room as I scramble to catch him before he topples over; he leaned back without thinking, his mind so blanked that he forgot he was sitting on a stool and not the bed. But he laughs giddily feeling my arms around him and drops his head to rest against my chest.

“You alright, lovely?”

“Mmm. Floating on the ceiling, my darling Reyja, love of my life, my moonflower, my beautiful, my beloved. Floating on the damned ceiling.”

I have to laugh. “Do you want me to take your blindfold off?”

“You did promise I could look at you, my shining goddess of delight.”

“Oh, stop.” I prop him upright and unbind his hands, then plant a soft kiss on his cheek before untying the knot in the length of black satin and letting it fall away.

He turns around to face me, still blinking in the light, and swings me down onto his lap without warning, my shoulder blades pressed against the tops of his thighs as he leans over me, kissing me hard. When we break apart for breath, I’m nearly as flushed as he is.

“I thought I was in charge tonight,” I say cheekily, batting at his bangs in feigned consternation.

“Oh, dearest, but you are.” Julian waggles his eyebrows at me again, the effect fully appreciable without the blindfold in the way. “I am as completely at your mercy now as I’ve ever been.”

“Oh, are you?”

“Don’t you believe me?” He shifts just enough for his cumstain to rub against my arm, a sly grin on his face. “I suppose I’ll just have to provide you with more evidence, then.”


End file.
